


Best Served

by Aussie_Muggle



Series: the good old days and other classified ops [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, May disapproves of Garrett's nickname for her, and Garrett, because Garrett is a tool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 23:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10887309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aussie_Muggle/pseuds/Aussie_Muggle
Summary: Decades later, when a certain overeager Engineer ended up in the Bus cabin with shaving cream smeared on his face, Coulson would remember this and try not to laugh.





	Best Served

Coulson caught Garrett’s punch and twisted. The taller man hit the mat hard. Evans and Singh cheered in the corner while May watched quietly, her expression unfathomable. Coulson could have sworn he saw a slight smile on her face, but that could have been wishful thinking.

Garrett ignored Coulson's outstretched hand and pulled himself up.

“Nice one, Phil,” he said with his usual semi-sincere cheer. “If I didn’t know better… I'd say you like getting beat up by Sunshine a little too much.”

Coulson rolled his eyes but, judging from the glare, May didn't particularly appreciate the nickname.

“You don't like that a cadet from Comms managed to knock you on your ass, do you Garrett?” she asked coldly.

“You wound me, May,” said Garrett with mock indignation. “Besides… Phil isn't just any old cadet. He was handpicked by Agent Fury himself.”

It was Coulson's turn to glare. Evans and Singh immediately stopped laughing. May managed to hide her surprise for the most part, but her eyes widened slightly.

“Didn't he say?” sneered Garrett. “Always modest, our Phil.”

Garrett left Coulson on the mats with a dramatic wave, muttering about needing to turn in. May, Evans and Singh didn’t move. Their eyes were fixed on Coulson.

“Seriously, Phil?” asked Evans quietly.

Coulson hated Garrett a little for this.

“It's not as big a deal as John’s making it out to be,” he muttered.

“Bullshit,” said Singh flatly, “but we’ll drop it if you want.”

Coulson gave Singh a grateful smile. Singh rolled his eyes and dragged away a still dubious Evans.

May didn’t leave with the others. She studied him intently, as though trying to find whatever Fury saw when he pulled Coulson out of History class. If she ever found her answer, Coulson would like to hear it, but he wished she wouldn’t _stare_.

“Err… May?”

“Can I borrow your shaving cream?” she asked finally.

Coulson blinked.

“What.”

 

*

 

Garrett burst into the mess hall and strode towards the kitchen, fuming. Singh and Evans both burst into obnoxiously loud laughs. Coulson glanced up from his book and tried not to smile at the shaving cream smeared over Garrett’s face and hands.

“Where do you keep the tea towels?” asked Garrett stiffly.

“The draw under the microwave,” replied Coulson calmly.

Garrett seized a tea towel and roughly wiped his face. Evans was still cackling by the time he finished.

“ _Shut up, Greg_.”

“I’m done, I swear,” said Evans, wiping away a tear.

Garrett’s expression darkened.

“Which one of you sons of whores did this? Evans…”

“You think I put that cheap shit on my face?” asked Evans indignantly.

 _Hurtful_ , thought Coulson, turning the page of his book.

 “Singh,” said Garrett sharply. “You sneaky, little…”

The thick-bearded man said nothing, but he gave Garrett a very patronising look. A look that said both ‘ _Do I look like I own shaving cream?’_ and ‘ _moron’._ Garrett threw his foam-covered tea towel at his face. Singh dodged easily, his smirk unhindered.

Garrett turned his glare to Coulson. Coulson only smiled.

“I've been here the whole time, John,” he replied earnestly.

Garrett frowned at Coulson for the longest time, but eventually threw up his hands and turned to leave.

“I'll find the one responsible,” he said finally, which sounded a lot less intimidating with a bit of missed shaving cream on his ear. “Mark my words.”

“When you find out, let us know,” Evans called out after him. “I need to buy him a drink.”

 

*

 

May slipped into the mess hall after the others had left and slumped next to Coulson on the couch, that now familiar half-smile on her face. She looked wonderfully _smug._ The cat that got the cream.

Coulson bit back a smile and kept reading. She glanced at his book.

“McRobinson’s History of the SSR?” she asked. “Any good?”

“I’m enjoying it. You can borrow it if you like.”

“Maybe later,” she said, settling into the cushions contently.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, and then Coulson’s curiosity got the better of him.

“How did you get into Garrett's bunk?”

“The air vent. Also where I hid his towel.”

“Ah.”


End file.
